My Loss
by SG1 Animal
Summary: He brought in the cake. CoxJD friendship


**A/N: My first Scrubs fic. mainly because I just started reading some fic the other day and it inspired me. I've had writers block for a while.. great excuse.. but I just wrote this in one night. Anyway.. I don't own scrubs.. but I really wish I did. Its a great show and I love it!**

**Enjoy the story and**

**Take Care **

* * *

**My Loss**

I was led on a couch in the Doctors Lounge when he walked in with it. His usually smiling face was blank as he silently crossed the room and sat the cake in front of me on the coffee table. I sat up straight, and my eyes were glued to the cake.

"Who?" I hear myself asking, voice loud in the silent room.

He blinks and looks away, hoping for someone to come and interrupt. I can see on his face a war, the fact that he doesn't want to say the words that will break his best friends heart. And the fact that he knows he has too.

And even before he says the name.. I know.

And then I'm hoping someone comes and interrupts. Just so I don't have to hear him say it. I close my eyes. I can't bear to watch him speak, knowing that this moment I'll remember for the rest of my life.

"Dan."

I don't move. I don't react. I don't cry. I don't speak.

Turk walks over and puts his hand on my shoulder.

He doesn't say "I'm sorry" or any of inane comment that doesn't really make you feel better, in fact makes you annoyed.

He just sits with me, cause he knows me. He knows that right this minute my brain is paused.

Instead he stays with me, both sat in silence for the longest time, until he gets paged and with a hug he leaves me.

My eyes bore into the cake.

God.

I hate cake.

When I was little I loved it, birthday cake, chocolate cake.. all cake.. I scoffed it. As much as I could. But then.. I grew up. And it was no longer a happy cake. It turned into Death cake.

My Dad.

My Brother.

My last memories about them will always be the cakes.

The stupid fucking cake.

The door opens and I'm surprised it's been so long. The lounge should be swarming with Doctors and Nurses.. especially Interns hiding from their patients. But its not.

It's deadly quiet. Deadly. Dead. Cake. Hospital. It's all related. A big crazy tangle. I wanted to be a doctor so I could save lives. Everyday I help save lives. But I've ended up losing two lives that I should have saved. The people I'd want to save. People I want alive. The people I need.

I don't even look up at the sound of the door. I'm focusing on the cake still. And then on the two hands which pick it up. I trail my gaze up the arms and into the persons face. My eyes widen in surprise.. but then.. really? Who else could it of been?

"Dr Cox." I grunt out. Wow. Manly voice. Grief makes me manly. Who knew?

He just smiles that half smile of his, the one that tells me he doesn't know what to say.. or maybe he just can't say it.. but whatever. Balancing the cake in one hand he pats my shoulder with the other.

"Come on" he says, his voice soft, without the usual bite that you expect from him.

I stand wordlessly and follow him to the door, set on some sort of autopilot.

We walk out and I see Janitor standing there, glaring. But not at me. For once. Instead he's glaring at a group of assembled hospital staff stood in the hallway drinking their coffee. And concentrating very hard on not spilling it by the looks of it.

That explains why no one came in.

I nod at the Janitor, and he ducks his head a little and does that funny little salute thing he does.

Looks like the white flag is blowing.

Cox's hand on my shoulder propels me through the endless corridors of Sacred Heart. No one says a word to me. I don't know if that's because they've all heard and are giving my space. Or the fact that Dr Cox is glaring at anyone who looks our way.

I blink and suddenly we're at my apartment sat on my sofa, cake in front of us and beers in hand.

I wait awhile, thinking that like last time he'll turn the TV on and we'd watch some sports. But he doesn't. So I turn to look at him. My mentor. And he's looking at me.

"Dan was an idiot" he says, holding up his beer in toast before taking a swig.

I blink in surprise. Ok.

"But he was a damn good guy, you were lucky Newbie."

I nod, and swallow my mouthful of beer. And look at him thoughtfully. So many things run through my head. But I don't know what ones to say. So I say nothing.

"You know I taped his head to the wall when he sat in the bath last time he was here?" Cox asks filling the silence.

And with that I'm laughing, and over the next few hours I tell him some stories.

And I keep laughing.

I don't cry.

Not yet.

But I will soon.

I know that soon I will cry.

But right now I'm laughing, just like Dan did everyday.


End file.
